Page 88 of Better in Black
And Janus, who had once been a golden-haired boy named Jace, who had once, like her, loved beyond measure, understood.
She had only one purpose—and she had failed. She failed herself. Worse, she failed Julian. She failed to destroy his killer. She had not hated him enough, this other Julian, infected by soul, whose ruthless desire still burned beneath, a fever only she could see.
She failed, but soon it wouldn’t matter.
Janus is unstoppable. Soon enough, devastation will rain down on this world and those who claim to protect it.
She does not mind that she will not be here to see it. She saw one world destroyed, riven by demons, and has no need to watch another fall the same way.
But death will be no mercy. She understands that, now, too late, the crumbs of her spirit drifting on the sea breeze, carrying her further and further from herself.
Her spirit will disappear into this world, into its moonlit skies and shimmering waters. She will pass through to whatever is next, and she has no illusions it will be Heaven. She had known herself Hell bound for a long time, but had always assumed she would meet Julian there, in the place of fire and torment. Better to be with Julian in Hell than alone in Heaven.
But whatever place she passed to now would be this world’s afterlife. Her Julian would not be there. She would always be an unreachable world away from him. Lovers parted in death. Julian is lost to her, forever. This is her final mistake, her final failure, her final agony.
She is barely a self now,
she is a thought on the wind,
she is a single cry of pain and rage and longing,
a single word, a name
Julian
City of Broken Hearts
Simon Lewis was used tofeeling like he didn’t belong. There was his time at the Shadowhunter Academy, when many of the students—not to mention many of the teachers—did their best to make him give up and go home. There was, of course, his vampire era, when he was too dead for most Shadowhunters to want him around but too alive for the other vampires to trust him. And, of course, there was high school and junior high before that, there was the school cafeteria and gym class and Jessie Karlish’s bat mitzvah…suffice to say, Simon had a lot of practice being made to feel like he didn’t quite fit in. It didn’t happen as much anymore—and when it did, Simon tried to take it as a compliment. But this night, standing backstage at one of New York City’s hottest nightclubs, it was hard not to feel like the same gawky twelve-year-old who, afterkissing Jessie Karlish at her bat mitzvah, tripped and fell face-first into the cake.
The Midnight Club was little more than a dark basement, but it seemed like every hipster in lower Manhattan was crammed inside for the Mortal Instruments concert. Simon had arrived early, which was lucky, because the bouncer refused to believe that he was with the band. If he hadn’t had Isabelle by his side—stunning, effortlessly cool, and carrying enough hidden weapons to slay a demon army—he might still be standing out in the cold.
“I don’t understand why we couldn’t just glamour ourselves and walk in,” Izzy complained, once they finally made it inside and into the greenroom. The rest of the band hadn’t arrived yet, so they had the space to themselves.
Simon didn’t know how to explain that his pride would not allow him to sneak into his own concert. He had left the band when he went to Shadowhunter Academy, and now just subbed in for their bass player when he had a free night. It was fun and he got to feel like a rock star for a while. Rock stars didn’t sneak in the back door. Or if they did, it was only to avoid the horde of screaming fans waiting for them in the front.
There was a grungy mirror in the greenroom, surrounded by wads of dried-up gum. Simon eyed his dim reflection as he tuned his bass. He was wearing his Shadowhunter gear, which he thought made him look a little punk rock. He had muscles, and was covered in what looked, to the mundane eye, like cool tattoos. He had a beautiful girlfriend. He was amusician,for Pete’s sake. So how did the bouncer recognize that deep down, Simon was still deeply, fundamentally uncool?
Izzy told him he was imagining things. Simon was sure he was not.
But this was another thing he couldn’t explain to Izzy. Most of the time, he didn’t think about him and Izzy this way. She was his girlfriend. She was beautiful, yes, but she was also brilliant and fun and surprisingly quirky. They got each other’s jokes. Theyfit.
But sometimes, when he was low, his insecurities surfaced. Old ghosts of a time when he had thought of the Shadowhunters as distant, almost magical beings, not people you coulddate.And he was feeling particularly low tonight, for no real reason. Not low, exactly, he thought—just strangelyoff,somehow.
“Forget about the bouncer.” Izzy had brought cupcakes for the band, and was laying them out now on the card table in the corner. They were unusual flavors, as was par for the course with Isabelle’s cooking: mushroom, oyster, beet, and raisin. “He was probably just jealous I get to hook up with the sexy bass player.”
“Ah, so the truth comes out; you only want me because I’m in a cool band,” Simon teased.
Izzy rolled her eyes. “If I wanted to date someone in acoolband, I’d be with that phouka who hit on me in Pandemonium last week.” She kissed him. “Much as I love staying up all night in dark basements that smell like pee, pretending that Eric’s voice doesn’t sound like an angry cat, I think I could handle it if you decided it was time to hang up your bass for good.”
“That’s good, since this might be my last show for a while.”
Izzy looked surprised. “Why?”
Simon gulped. He hadn’t meant to start this conversation here—it had just slipped out. But maybe now was the time. Clary had been on him all week to tell Izzy the truth.What are you so afraid will happen,she kept asking. But she was hisparabatai,not to mention his best friend. She knew exactly what he was afraid of. She just thought he was being ridiculous.
Simon took a deep breath. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you—”
Izzy tensed. It made him sad, sometimes, thinking about how early she’d learned the lesson: Danger can come from anywhere, any time. Be prepared.
